


Tickle Fights and Early Nights

by CloudMonsta



Category: Free!
Genre: College AU, Domestics, Established Relationship, M/M, SouMako - Freeform, Teasing, oh yeah a little cameo by Rin too!, sort of? it's more like a canon divergence au? future au? don't even know what to call it, they take off shirts a lot but that's not the point of the fic?, they're in college tho so hey, tickle fight, yeah ok I'm gonna stop tagging now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:16:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudMonsta/pseuds/CloudMonsta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke and Makoto share a room at the university they're both attending, and Christmas is approaching. They agreed no gifts this holiday season. Or, at least, Sousuke thought they agreed no gifts. (Alternative title: No, it's Not Nutter Butters)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickle Fights and Early Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KlawxXx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KlawxXx/gifts).



> Christmas gift fic for Belinda, my dear friend <3 she wanted domestic soumako, how could I not deliver? Have a good holiday, my goose. <3

Makoto walked into their dorm room, looking around and absently noticing Sousuke studying on the bottom bunk. Dropping his bag off in a chair and closing the door behind him, Makoto greeted him with a simple “Hey. I’m gonna change my shirt.”

“Cool,” Sousuke responded, not looking up from his book and simply turning the page.

It was quiet for a bit, with Makoto pulling off his snap up shirt and dropping it onto the back of their desk chair. Sousuke glanced up from his book just in time to watch Makoto pull off the tee he’d been wearing underneath.

Makoto crossed his arms in front of him, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one smooth motion, somehow managing not to get tangled up in the sleeves.

“What was _that_?” Sousuke asked with a scoff, watching as Makoto’s back was turned to him, his boyfriend shifting through the hangers in their closet. Their clothes were all mixed together, and since they weren’t all that different in sizes, they didn’t bother to keep them separate anymore.

“Is this yours or mine…?” Makoto mumbled, pulling out a green tee with polka-dots splattered across its front.

“That’s yours, you look better in green anyways,” Sousuke responded quickly, brushing off Makoto’s half-question easily. “But back to the point: what was _that_?”

“What was what?” Makoto asked, pulling the shirt off the hanger carefully so as not to stretch out the collar.

Sousuke waited for Makoto to pull the new shirt over his head, then gestured with his arms crossed, mimicking how Makoto had just removed his tee shirt moments before. “That,” he supplied with a vague gesture towards Makoto’s torso.

“How I… took my shirt off?” Makoto asked, quirking an eyebrow in question, confused.

“Yeah. What was that, were you trying to seduce me or something?”

“No… that’s just how I take my shirt off sometimes,” Makoto shook his head, looking at Sousuke as if he were crazy.

“Are you sure?” Sousuke questioned further, enunciating each word clearly and drawing them out, narrowing his eyes at Makoto as if he suspected him of something.

“It’s a perfectly normal way to take a shirt off!” Makoto defended, flustered.

“No it’s not,” Sousuke argued, dog-earring his page and setting the book down on the bed. He stood up and took a step or two away from the frame, into the middle of the room. “This is a normal way to take your shirt off,” he said, wiggling his right arm inside of his shirt, then grabbing the hem with his left hand and pulling it up over his head sideways, whipping it off of his wrist.

“That was so unnatural,” Makoto scoffed, shaking his head.

“Well, normally you just put both arms above your head, but old habits,” Sousuke shrugged, referring to his shoulder. It had been quite a few years, but having to take care how he moved his shoulder for months on end as well as the occasional twinge kept him from moving that arm as much as he had before the injury.

Makoto sobered up, but Sousuke just pulled his shirt back on. “You can also do it like this,” he said, grabbing the back of the collar behind his head and yanking it up, pulling his shirt back off. “But I have _no clue_ how you did it in front like that and didn’t catch your arms.”

“It’s easy, but more often I’ll do it like this,” Makoto admitted, pulling both of his arms inside his shirt and then lifting it over his head. “You just gotta be careful that you don’t get caught on your nose or glasses. I’ve done that before… not fun,” he said, remembering how the twins had laughed at him for what felt like the entire day when he’d knocked his glasses off, stuck in his shirt, for the first time and panicked.

“I suppose if you were wearing a boat-neck you could just step out of it,” Sousuke mused absently, watching as Makoto grabbed the plaid shirt from before and pulled it on one sleeve at a time, doing up the front.

“Besides, if I were trying to seduce you,” Makoto began, finishing up his shirt, “I’d do it like _this_.” He grabbed the shirt on both sides and yanked, pulling the snaps loose in a quick motion and throwing the shirt down his arms behind him, letting it catch on his wrists. When it settled down, he looked over at Sousuke and waggled his eyebrows.

“Mm, yes, that would do nicely,” Sousuke managed to get out with a straight face, before quickly cracking and falling into snickers.

“Yeah, whatever, you big nerd,” Makoto snorted back, taking a moment to pull the polka-dotted shirt back on. “Enough of that anyways, I have something for you.”

Sousuke threw himself onto the bed, not bothering to pull his shirt back on and instead tossing it into a laundry basket they kept in the corner, cheering when he made the shot. “Eh?” He questioned eloquently, before brightening up. “Oh, is it some of those nutter butters from the vending machine down the hall?” He asked excitedly. “I heard they stocked it with new stuff yesterday and you know I love me some nutter butters.”

Snorting, Makoto shook his head, digging around in his bag. “No, because I’d rather not feed into your unhealthy obsession with snack food,” he joked, pulling out a small box that looked like it would normally hold a small piece of jewelry. “It’s just a little gift since Christmas is coming up.”

“Ok, first of all, I don’t wear earrings,” Sousuke brought up, eyeing the box with the little ribbon bow dubiously, “and secondly, we decided no gifts.”

“But I saw it and thought of you,” Makoto said, pouting.

“Makoto,” Sousuke warned.

“It’s a small thing,” Makoto argued, holding up the little box.

“Mako, we are each other’s gifts,” Sousuke replied, waggling his eyebrows.

“Sousuke, please just open it,” Makoto said, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

“Ok _fine_ , whatever,” Sousuke huffed dramatically, as if this were some big favor he was doing for Makoto. “C’mere,” he added, grabbing Makoto by the shirtsleeve and yanking him onto the bed with him.

Makoto fell over with a yelp, grumbling at Sousuke, who just ignored him and waited patiently. When his boyfriend finally settled down in his lap, he reached around Makoto’s waist to pick at the bow on the little box, propping his chin on the shoulder in front of him comfortably.

“Makoto. You have _got_ to be kidding me.”

Makoto laughed, watching in joy as Sousuke pulled out a tiny pair of doll’s swim trunks, grey with itty bitty sharks on them, and nearly dwarfed by Sousuke’s fingertips. “You saw this and thought of me,” he stated flatly, in disbelief.

“Uhuh,” Makoto manages to squeeze out between his giggles, body shaking with the effort of keeping them in. Sousuke lightly smacked Makoto’s stomach in retaliation, rolling his eyes and fighting a smile off his own face.

“Hey,” Makoto argued, poking Sousuke back, “Rin suggested icy-hot patches. I thought that’d be too mean, though, so be glad it isn’t worse.”

“You discussed this with Rin.”

“Only a little bit?”

“Makoto. I will never hear the end of this now.”

“He won’t be _that_ bad…”

“Yes. Yes he will. Retaliation!” Sousuke shouted, drawing the word out and immediately digging his fingers into Makoto’s sides with no mercy, cackling as Makoto squirmed about, squealing.

“Sou-suke! Sto- you know I’m too- tick-lish… for that!” Makoto gasped out as he writhed about, trying to escape Sousuke’s lap and only ending up lying down flat on the bed, laughing and trying to push his boyfriend’s hands away from his sensitive sides.

“No mercy for the betrayer!” Sousuke crowed out, grabbing a leg when it kicked out and reaching behind the knee to lightly scratch at the underside, laughing as Makoto flopped about, breathless.

With a particularly violent spasm, Makoto fell right off the edge of the bed, crashing to the carpeted floor just beneath them, landing sprawled out and half on the bed, curled over on himself, Sousuke still holding one of his legs in shock.

“Crap. Dude, you ok?” Sousuke asked worriedly, immediately stopping and leaning over to peer at Makoto’s flushed face where he lay panting on the floor.

“Y-… yeah, I’m fine,” Makoto managed after a moment, still catching his breath. “Didn’t mean to fall off.”

“C’mere,” Sousuke murmured, reaching forward and grapping Makoto’s arm, pulling him back up onto the bed.

Kicking his book off onto the floor, Sousuke stretched out along the bed, pulling Makoto into his arms and snuggling in close, tucking his boyfriend’s head beneath his chin. After a few moments of quiet, comfortable silence, Sousuke leaned forward and kissed the crown of Makoto’s head.

“What was that for?” Makoto asked, looking up at him, amused.

Grinning back, Sousuke responded in a singsong tone. “I hear kissies make the ouchies alllllllllllll better.”

“You big nerd,” Makoto scoffed back, bumping his head into Sousuke’s chin lightly.

“Yeah, I love you too,” Sousuke mumbled, curling his arms around Makoto and rubbing his thumb lightly against Makoto’s arm.

It wasn’t nutter butters, but it’d do.


End file.
